The Athlete on the Sidelines

By Jennifer Allen

Published: February 20, 2004

LOS ANGELES—
It's midseason in cheer nation. This winter, thousands of girls will travel on college all-star teams to take part in competitions across the country. Practicing more than 20 hours a week, they will refine a routine of back flips, handsprings, round-offs and splits -- all perfectly synchronized and timed to an Olympic second. Their goal: first place. Their game: competitive cheerleading, one of the fastest-growing sports for women in America.

Last year, the University of Maryland became the first Division I N.C.A.A. institution to recognize competitive cheerleading as a varsity sport. That means team members are accorded the same benefits as other campus athletes -- a coaching and medical staff; locker rooms; help with academics; help dealing with the press. By the 2005-06 academic year, Maryland will provide 12 full scholarships to competitive cheerleaders. The question is this: What took so long?

(Time out for a definition. Competitive cheerleading overlaps with but is not identical to the spirit squads you see, say, on the sidelines of a Saturday afternoon college football game. The teams we're talking about do cheer at school games, but they also compete against other schools in cheerleading competitions where they perform high-risk routines under high-pressure circumstances.)

For too many years, cheerleading has been the subject of derision. Sports Illustrated has lampooned it. Many Americans fail to distinguish it from the sideline shows the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders put on. Back when I was a cheerleader in high school in the late 70's, we were called a sideshow. In those days, we performed at every sporting event -- football, basketball and baseball. We practiced three days a week; purchased our own uniforms (skirts, sweaters, trunks, socks, saddle shoes) and were responsible for our own steady supply of bandages. Ace bandages. There were plenty of injuries, mostly to ligaments. After a big game, my knee would swell. My dad would offer a diagnosis -- water on the knee -- bandage it up, and then prescribe 50 reps on the knee machine. But cheerleaders weren't allowed in the school weight room.

Today, more than 200,000 high-school and college students attend cheerleading camps each year; at least 15 percent of them participate in competitions. The Universal Cheerleading Association feeds its competitions to ESPN for lively weekend fare. When these events were televised last year, they drew an average audience of 334,000 homes.

For all its popularity, though, the sport is governed -- or not governed -- by a patchwork of entities. Schools may treat cheerleaders as athletes -- but they don't have to. Some offer little more than a uniform and a game-day parking pass; others offer scholarships; none offer the full-range of support and benefit that Maryland does for competitive cheerleading. What's more, cheerleading is not even recognized by the N.C.A.A. as a sport.

Given the nature of competitive cheerleading, this seems like a risky proposition. Think about it: in what other sport is an athlete tossed more than 30 feet in the air -- smiling -- before spiraling down into the arms of a trusted teammate? Lifts and tosses and catches are the mainstay of competitive cheerleading. ''Fliers'' do not wear hip pads or kneepads or helmets. There is little to protect a cheerleader from awkward or poor landings on the gym floor.

Not surprisingly, cheerleading is the No. 1 cause of serious sports injuries to women, according to the National Center for Catastrophic Sport Injury Research, ahead of gymnastics and track. From 1980 to 2001, emergency room visits for cheerleading injuries rose fivefold.

Pushing colleges to recognize competitive cheerleading as a sport will surely help to cut down on injuries. Right now, the American Association of Cheering Coaches and Advisers publishes a manual and administers a safety certification program, but only a fraction of coaches have been certified. Many cheerleaders try dangerous stunts without proper training, coaching and supervision.

Of course, convincing other schools to make competitive cheerleading an official sport won't be easy. According to Deborah Yow, Maryland's athletic director, it took more than a year to make sure that the university's cheerleading squad would meet all the guidelines set forth by the Department of Education's Office of Civil Rights. While the department does not define what is or is not a ''sport,'' it does determine whether a university's given activity -- such as cheerleading -- can be considered a sport in order to comply with Title IX.

Is Maryland's action entirely altruistic? Probably not. It doubtless relieves some Title IX pressure. But what's wrong with that? And would it be so wrong to ask the N.C.A.A. to sponsor and govern the sport? After all, when the big collegiate cheerleading competitions begin next month, hundreds of thousands of people will tune in, acknowledging the importance of cheerleading. More N.C.A.A. colleges would be wise to follow suit.

Drawing (Drawing by Helene Silverman)

Jennifer Allen is the author of ''Fifth Quarter: The Scrimmage of a Football Coach's Daughter.''